


Never fully dressed without it

by secreterces5



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Can be viewed as Charlastor but can also just be platonic, Canon-typical swearing, Cuddling, I hate him already tbh, LGBT-phobia?, Sympathetic Alastor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vox fucking dies almost, also this is based on a headcanon about Alastor’s smile, and also I’m not sure how asexuality works tbh, brief use of new-pronouns (xe/xem/xeir) for an unnamed background character who’s an asshole, but he has an aversion to physical touch, but hey you can be in a community and still be an asshole or just respect parts of the community, everyone except Charlie and Al is in background as this fic is focused on them, friends cuddle and I have proof, idk why I gave them new-pronouns since they’re homophobic, maybe even less than in canon, so I guess Al’s not precisely asexual, vulnerability and trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:02:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secreterces5/pseuds/secreterces5
Summary: Charlie delves into an investigation about what it would take for Alastor to lose his ever present smile.
Relationships: Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor/Charlie Magne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 239





	1. Noone knows anything in this cursed hotel

Alastor’s smile was new to noone. He was always smiling, always in a cheery mood, no matter the trouble they faced. To some, it was irritating. To others, it was terrifying. To most, it was both of those options, because rumors had spread about what it would take for that smirk to be wiped off of his face. What could possibly distress him so much as to lose the smile even for a second, for half a second, to scowl?

Angel Dust claimed that if he kept pestering the radio demon for long enough, Alastor would eventually lose it. Vaggie immediately offered him money to go and test his theory, but this was probably more because she was just trying to get rid of Angel. Husk, when prompted, told them that for as long as he’d known Alastor, he’d never seen the guy’s smile fade, but maybe when Alastor slept his face would naturally loosen up. Then again, this raised new questions, like “does Alastor even sleep?” and “what if he’s one of those people who sleep with their eyes open and just keeps on grinning all the time???” While they expressed some of these inquiries to the demon in question after he proved to be rather polite towards them, they never got a straight answer out of him. He actually made a game out of it, telling each person a different answer, so when they all came together they discovered that all they had was a bunch of nonsense conspiracies he came up with about himself. They found it annoying, he found it hilarious, and after some time, they stopped asking.

Charlie, however, was still curious. And as time went by and she had more chances to spend it with Alastor, she wondered if, given an opportunity, she could ask him about his constant smiling.

That, however, would require incredible trust and no possible distractions, she decided. And it also meant she had to study him in a sense, finding out what made the feared radio demon tick and how he’d react to things other folks would react to by losing their smile. This way, Charlie had hoped to come to understand more about the dapper man with a golden grin.

Charlie made a list. She liked making lists, it always helped her focus on her tasks and stay on track. The fact that her list was full of doodled emojis should be considered secondary.

There are six universal facial expressions, as recognized by a random website she found on the first page of Google. These are happiness, sadness, disgust, anger, surprise, and fear.

She wrote questionmarks next to the “sadness” and “fear” bulletpoints, as she wasn’t exactly sure right away how to induce those emotions in Alastor and anyways, her goal wasn’t to make anyone sad or scared, not even him. According to the “research” - if you could call it that - that Vaggie, Angel and Husk had done, Alastor seemed unphased by most things they threw at him, so it was even questionable if he could  _ feel _ such emotions.

Tapping her pen on her chin, Charlie went over the short list of six bulletpoints. “Let’s get to it then, I guess.”


	2. LGBfuckingT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a tad Angel-centric because he was my first introduction to Hazbin, also this is the closest thing to RadioDust I will write in the foreseeable future. Please, shippers, don’t kill me just yet, I don’t mind it but I suck at writing gay pairs. Maybe I’ll get there once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, I’m LGBT, but like... men wearing dresses?? That’s just wrong.”  
> Yea frick that exact kind of people.

Angel never really respected anyone’s personal space. Charlie didn’t mind - she loved physical contact, she loved hugging people and being hugged, and down here getting touched and not immediately dying afterwards was a rarity, so she was happy for the occasional arm (or three) around her waist or a chin resting on her shoulder. Since the spider demon never actually tried anything nasty, she was more than happy to let him lean on her, sometimes she’d lay her head in his lap and let him play with her hair, it helped them both calm down and she just liked it over all.

Others did not.

Vaggie just straight up threatened him with violence any time he got too close. For Husk it depended on his mood and his mood depended on how drunk he was at the moment. Sometimes he’d allow Angel to pick his feathers. Not too often though.

As for Alastor, well. Alastor evaded the arachnid like the slightest touch would cause him to die a horrendous death. Charlie suspected he was either asexual or just didn’t like the drag queen’s endless innuendos and flirting. Maybe he just didn’t like Angel at all, but then again, the princess of hell had seen them hold a conversation once or twice when Angel felt like playing nice.

Then, one day, her, Alastor and Angel had been on their way to an interview concerning the hotel (surprisingly, there were now reporters genuinely interested in the new business) when a demon Charlie didn’t know approached Angel. This happened from time to time, he did have both fans and customers running up to him in the strangest of places, and because neither Alastor or Charlie wanted to be involved in a discussion of what Angel’s next porn will be like or what each new fan personally wanted to do to him, they left the striped demon to his devices and kept walking.

However, after a moment they were stopped by Angel cursing up a storm. As they turned back to him, they saw the demon sitting on the ground and holding his face with one hand while shaking a fist with another. The person they had at first thought to be a fan was walking away in the opposite direction, laughing and clearly not too mindful of the pair that accompanied Angel Dust. Maybe xe thought Charlie wouldn’t have the guts to chase xem or that Alastor wouldn’t care what happened.

Alastor, however, wasn’t completely detached from the scene. “Did you anger xem somehow?”

“I fucking didn’t!” Angel Dust groaned, rubbing his eye. “Xe just pranced up to me, asked me what the fuck I was wearing and when I asked what’s it to xem xe just straight up punched me in the fucking face! Then xe said ‘stop dressing like a pussy’ and just motherfucking laughed at me! I hope xe gets splinters stuck under all xeir nails, stupid asshole.”

Charlie helped Angel up and attempted to do something about his eye (“Great, how can I go to the interview now?!”) and she noticed Alastor was watching the attacker.

“Hey, Al?” she spoke up, gesturing towards the hotel’s first patron and his swelling eye. “Xe damaged our star’s eye. I think that’s enough reason to mess xem up a bit, don’t you?”

“I can not argue with that, darling,” he nodded with certain smugness, his eyes glitching into small dials and the space around him warping and buzzing as black shadowy tendrils crawled out of the ground, caught the unknown demon by the ankles and dragged xem back towards them, screaming and obviously regretting xeir miscalculation.

As the radio demon looked over xem in a more than threatening manner, xe probably realized what xe did wrong, and promptly attempted to correct their actions by begging: “Oh my God I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean what I said, it’s– it’s totally okay with me how Mr. Angel Dust dresses, hah, I just, it was just a friendly bump, ya know?”

“A friendly fucking bump?!” Angel growled, but Charlie held him back. There was something changing about Alastor’s smile, and she knew she had to pay attention now if she was ever solving the mystery of his expression. Besides, as a Hell-born being she was fascinated by the visuals of Alastor’s powers. Some of it was very much for show, she sensed that – but she also sensed the raw power and she was hypnotized by the flowing colours and floating runes.

“Oh my, now that there’s a threat to your life, suddenly you’re all pro-LGBT, as the younger generations would say.” Alastor shook his head. “Not even owning up to your claims. How pathetic,” he hissed and his mouth didn’t move anymore as he spoke. He bent down to look into the eyes of the attacker, who was trying to crawl away from him and failing, xeir shaking limbs betraying xem. “You,” the radio demon said in a deeper-than-usual voice, “disgust me. Scram, before I make you.”

The stranger whimpered weakly, scrambled to xeir five legs and ran off like all hell was chasing xem. Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t so untrue.

Angel Dust watched the whole scene play out with puzzlement, and now that it was over, he gave the demon beside him a look of new-found respect. Not out of fear, but because he was… kinda grateful. “Wow. Thanks, Al.”

Charlie wasn’t looking after the escaping bastard anymore. She made mental notes of what she saw in the few seconds before it was gone. As soon as she was sure she wouldn’t forget, her attention was back on how to treat Angel’s injury. They couldn’t put him in front of a camera like this after all, could they?

Later, she could check off one of the emotions on her list.

  * surprise
  * sadness (?)
  * disgust ✅ – _his brows furrow and his eyes are narrowed, like he’s squinting. His smile looks ultra fake, like he’s about to politely tell a Karen to fuck off. It stays on his face though._
  * anger
  * happiness
  * fear (?)




	3. Screw you, Vox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s one thing to call Alastor soft. It’s another thing to call him old. Vox does both, and the Radio Demon appreciates neither.  
> Charlie steps in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, my chapter titles are genius. Wait until you read the next one though.

Most theories agreed that maybe Alastor needed to be really, really angry to drop his cheerfulness. Charlie wasn’t willing to test that one out, honestly. Although her power was rivaling his and she would probably be able to tame Alastor before he could murder everyone in a fifty mile radius, she was fond of the guy and didn’t want to make him angry for nothing.

Luckily, she didn’t have to.

A Hell Overlord came over one day to challenge Alastor. There are multiple Overlords, and this one’s name was Vox. He had a television for a head and even though technically speaking this made him somewhat similar to the radio demon, they couldn’t stand each other. So, from time to time, they fought each other using their unique powers. Every time this happened in the proximity of the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie would usher everyone into safety of the stone walls, hoping Alastor wouldn’t let the building get damaged.

This was one of those times, and it would probably end in a draw as the two were equally matched, with Alastor walking back to the hotel and Vox returning to his own corner of the Pentagram, except this time the television-head uttered a comment that others would never dare to even think of around Alastor.

“Oh, well, it seems to me, that you’ve grown… soft.”

Alastor halted mid-step and everyone around froze.

Then, the radio demon turned back to his rival and chuckled lightly. “Oh ho, you must be mistaken! I’m merely being polite, like a gentleman! Unlike you, but I hate pointing fingers.”

“Ah, nope, I see it clearly now,” the other Overlord said in a taunting tone, looking over Alastor’s shoulder and behind him at the few inhabitants of the hotel, who were peeking out from behind the corners trying to see what was going on. “The grandpa’s just found his grandchildren and needs to protect them, how adorable!” Vox laughed then, and it sounded like a million different voices were coming out of his mouth, but it wasn’t even a little similar to the prerecorded laughter track that played when Alastor joked or found something funny. And maybe the familiar and yet weirdly distorted and strange laughter was what pushed Charlie to step forward and speak up.

“Hey, fuck you, Vox.”

For a second time, everyone paused. Alastor did, and so did Vox, and everyone currently crouching somewhere relatively out of the harm’s way. Vaggie bit her cheek, she wanted to run out after Charlie and drag her back into questionable safety, but Angel was holding onto her tightly, not allowing her to worsen the situation.

Then, Vox burst into laughter again, but louder this time. “Well, this – ahahah! – this is just priceless! What, Ol’–astor, do you need this tiny princess to come to your rescue?! Are ya an overlord or are you a little bitch, huh?”

Charlie growled and felt her horns rise. Her hands curled into fists and red seeped into her eyes. “For  _ your _ information–!”

“Charlie, dear, if I may?” Alastor interrupted her, blocking her way with the microphone he sometimes carried. “This mindless droning void of any real entertainment is  _ my _ headache to handle.”

There was something in his voice, something sinister, that made her immediately back off. “Ookay, bud,” she raised her hands in a defensive manner as she took a few steps away from the radio demon.

“Okay buuuud~” the demon with a screen for a face parroted. “Do ya have a friendship bracelet yet?? Or are flower crowns on schedule first!” he caused himself to succumb to laughter again.

“Ah, see, the schedule’s gone through a few minor changes as of now,” and that wasn’t light smiling anymore, no, this was not a smirk, or a grin, “after all, your intrusion is causing a delay,” this was a grimace, a smile that promised all Hell coming loose, and as cursed runes and whispering magic started flowing from under Alastor’s feet, Charlie decided a quick retreat to her hiding spot would be the greatest choice she could be making right then.

“And that’s incredibly improper.”

She didn’t know what exactly happened next. None of them did, they didn’t really… see it. All they witnessed was a strange glowing cloud of red and black enveloping the two demons and next thing they knew Vox disappeared from the face of Hell with no trace.

(He would be found a few weeks later stuck in a room underground with no doors and music from 1920’s playing on loop all around with no visible source. While the Overlord was recovered and recovering, the room couldn’t be destroyed and is still buried in the same place.)

Dusting themselves off and going back to what they were doing before Vox’s visited, most felt this was a case closed. Charlie would, too, but before that, she waited for Alastor to come back inside and joined him, muttering: “Y’know… It’s okay if you’re soft sometimes. You’re still as powerful and horrifying as ever.” He raised a brow at her and she hurried to add: “And that’s kinda admirable in itself! That you can keep it balanced! I just wanted to make sure you know, do with that what you will, heh!”

He nodded. “Duly noted, Your Talkative Higness,” he joked, and she breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him in good mood again.

  * surprise
  * sadness (?)
  * disgust ✅ – _his brows furrow and his eyes are narrowed, like he’s squinting. His smile looks ultra fake, like he’s about to politely tell a Karen to fuck off. It stays on his face though._
  * anger ✅ – _his powers show even if not intentionally, as if spilling over. This is probably like a normal person snapping in anger. Accompanied by a wicked grin, shows off as many teeth as possible (probably more than he really needs to have in his mouth. Just… too many teeth.), and the grin doesn’t turn into a scowl at any time._
  * happiness
  * fear (?)




	4. What on Earth(a)?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People don’t exactly celebrate stuff down here. Maybe after overthrowing an Overlord or winning a turf war they get drunk, but so do the overthrown Overlords and losers of turf wars.  
> Charlie came up with a special day to celebrate each of her friends coming to Hell, because she wants to show she appreciates each and every one of them.  
> Alastor didn’t know she’d want to celebrate his coming-to-Hell day too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The worst frickin chapter title I ever wrote. It makes sense when you read the chapter.  
> Also this is a song-fic, partially. Oops.

As things settled more in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie came up with small traditions to keep some action going on. She brought all sorts of holidays, religions-related and folksy, whatever she found fun and had enough information on. She even took advice from their patrons on traditions they had in their previous lives. It helped brighten the place up and gave them reasons to throw parties that, suspiciously, had less alcohol every time they happened (Charlie was trying to slowly implicate that these could be fun without being completely drunk and high on seventeen different kinds of drugs).

Personally, she also liked to celebrate everyone’s coming-to-Hell days. This was her own tradition, and it was a mystery to everyone how she remembered when everyone first came to Hell, but she did, and she always had a small surprise prepared for her friends on these special days. Vaggie was used to these already, she had had quite a few celebrations thrown by Charlie already and Angel experienced his first coming-to-Hell day soon after signing up for the “Happy Hotel” project.

No one was exactly dripping with joy when Charlie introduced them to her plans of throwing a small party for Alastor‘s coming-to-Hell day. Her glowing enthusiasm however balanced out their annoyance enough for them to not give up on the idea completely.

On the evening of the fateful anniversary, it was Husk who told Alastor he should really, really get his ass over to Charlie’s office. As this became the place where employees (and Angel Dust) started hanging out when the hotel got more populated, Alastor didn’t really think much of it. They probably wanted his opinion on something, or maybe they’d pester him some more about his facial features, he still didn’t get why they had the urge to do that. Husk accompanied him to the office’s door and before opening it, the winged demon sighed in odd mix of resignation and annoyance: “Listen, I had to suffer watching them and now you gotta too, but I’m still kinda sorry.”

Then, he let Alastor in and slammed the door shut behind him. The radio demon tilted his head to the side, scanning the office bathed in barely any light – for a moment. Suddenly, lights of all colours turned on all around the room – they were small cheap Christmas lights, blinking with reds and yellows.

Alastor had just enough time to register that Charlie was sitting on her table holding a microphone, Vaggie was sitting on a sofa across the room and Angel was laying against the wall nearest to him before music joined the lights and Charlie swayed her legs to the rhythm and started singing:

“ _ When I was a baby so I've been told _

_ I was walkin’ and talkin’ at six weeks old! _ ”

She grinned faking a prideful pout that earned a snort from Vaggie.

“ _ Nobody taught me! I figured it out for myself! _

_ Well, you never get nowhere countin’ on somebody else! _ ”

Charlie shrugged and looked at Vaggie as if she was telling her. And the grey-haired demon took over, nodding her head:

“ _ When I was in first grade, just a week _

_ I gave the other kiddies a course in Greek, _ ”

she rolled her eyes and smiled smugly. She was trying hard not to enjoy this, and it showed.

“ _ At sweet sixteen I was busily employed _

_ Explaining the theories of Sigmund Freud. _

_ Nobody taught me. I figured it out for myself! _ ”

Without looking up, Vaggie pointed to Angel Dust, who leapt off the wall and danced around the room with a microphone not unlike Alastor’s own. And of course his first verse was what it was.

“ _ When I found out what I could mean to men _

_ My education started all over again _

_ It really doesn't matter if you rich or poor _

_ Just a millionaire who loves you can make you feel secure _

_ Nobody taught me! I figured it out for myself! _ ”

Vaggie laughed and stood up, joining Angel with her arms crossed over her chest.

_ “I landed in Las Vegas, broke the bank three times!” _

The princess jumped off her table and hurried to finish the verse Vaggie started:

“ _ I went to hire Liyah, had the boogies bumming dimes! _ ”

All three of them then sang with growing joy:

“ _ Nobody taught me, I figured it out for myself! _

_ Well, you never get nowhere countin’ on someone else! _ ”

An instrumental break followed and Angel used the pause from singing to approach the red haired (red everything-ed actually) demon: “So, what’cha think?”

An amused chuckle escaped him. “What is all of this?” he gestured towards a few bottles of an actually good alcohol and few plates of small-sized food on various surfaces in the office, as well as the lights and colorful streamers tied to any possible place they could hang from.

“Happy coming-to-Hell day!” Charlie half said and half sung with her arms raised. “I throw it for all people who are close to my heart, and you’ve officially become one of them!”

“Congrats,” Vaggie mumbled with light sarcasm, but it seemed she was in a mood too good for snarky remarks.

“It was real fun to set up and practice, actually,” Angel shrugged, “Charlie insisted we needed to find as much jazz music as we could and have an opening number. So, uh… here we are!” he posed in a dress that fitted the music very well and in Angel’s own opinion looked gorgeous on him. “Never thought I’d be wearing something from 1930’s.”

“But!” Charlie continued, “we still have one more phase of the opening number planned!”

“Oh do you?” She could see his eyes shine, and it wasn’t the usual “oh what hilarious failure are you setting yourself up for now darling” kind, no, she could see a gleam in his eyes that lacked any bitterness, this look didn’t seem as patronizing, accompanied by him gently tapping a foot to the beat, this way Alastor seemed almost harmless.

Maybe one day, Charlie thought. Maybe there will come a moment when Alastor will be just a step away from redemption and he will trust her – or Angel, or really anyone he meets on his way toward being better, he will trust them to guide him in that final step into Heaven.

For now, though, this was all too far. For now, they were celebrating that circumstances lead him here so he could help Charlie do this. And so, she started tapping her foot to the rhythm too. “Yeah! It’s the part where you join us, because I’ve heard you humming this song before and I know you know the lyrics!”

For a second time in a short while, he looked taken aback, baffled for a moment – she recognized Eartha Kitt’s song from his humming, how did she do that, it might just be that she knew the singer from The King’s New Groove, she did seem like the type to watch cartoons – before he shrugged and summoned his own mic: “Well, I wouldn’t want to refuse such an offer, that would be just uncalled for!” He twirled the girl with one hand and she laughed giddily, and then they sang the rest of the song together, and many more after that, drinking and stuffing themselves with food and just having fun and letting go for an evening. Heaven – or, I suppose, Hell – knows they needed it.

“ _ I was sued by J. P. Morgan for control of the Bank _

_ Awarded me the verdict, I had just myself to thank. _

_ The case was well conducted as the Judge could plainly see _

_ You could call it self defense because the lawyer was mean! _

_ Nobody taught me, I figured it out for myself! _

_ Well, you never get nowhere countin’ on someone else, _

_ I said you never get nowhere counting on someone else! _ ”

At the end of the day, Charlie was almost too tired to write down what she’d learned, but it was too important and she couldn’t risk forgetting it before the morning came. After all, she could write down two newly discovered expressions today!

  * surprise ✅ – _he tilts his head, like a dog (or a deer, I suppose) would. Noises akin to a buzz of an old audio carrying device (either radio or an old tv) can be heard, and his eyes widen with curiosity (he’s always, always curious, never scared! Does anything scare him at all???)_
  * sadness (?)
  * disgust ✅ – _his brows furrow and his eyes are narrowed, like he’s squinting. His smile looks ultra fake, like he’s about to politely tell a Karen to fuck off. It stays on his face though._
  * anger ✅ – _his powers show even if not intentionally, as if spilling over. This is probably like a normal person snapping in anger. Accompanied by a wicked grin, shows off as many teeth as possible (probably more than he really needs to have in his mouth. Just… too many teeth.), and the grin doesn’t turn into a scowl at any time._
  * happiness ✅ – _colour around him distorts in a harmless and barely noticeable fashion, and his smile looks more soft than usual, it’s smaller, probably the smallest smile we’re ever going to see on him, and kinda more relaxed? Maybe?_
  * fear (?)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, we’re only left with two questionmarks. Is one of these emotions the one that makes Al frown? Who knows!


	5. A question of pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie’s tired. As it turns out, so is Alastor, but he would never admit that. He’s too proud, too paranoid. And so, the princess of Hell needs to call on her greatest power: the magic of friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the soft one and also the only one I think may be out of character for them. Let me know what you think of how I wrote the characters.

Days, weeks, whole months went by, slowly, but surely. The Hazbin Hotel was admitting more wayward souls nowadays and people in the hotel were getting along pretty well for the most part, which meant less work for everyone involved.

Except Charlie. Charlie, as the one overseeing everything, had to deal with small inconveniences, brawls, people not knowing how to fill out admission forms, events organized in the hotel (although she couldn’t complain about those, she was the one organizing almost all of them) and everything her patrons did that they shouldn’t be doing. Angel was out celebrating a year of abstinence (just because he wasn’t drinking alcohol didn’t mean he couldn’t celebrate in other ways, as he clearly explained to everyone and was met with a mix of disgusted groans and cheers of support) and Vaggie had been helping her for a few good hours now, but eventually, Charlie sent her home. The grey-haired demon was good at preventing fights from happening and if she was too tired to do that there’s no telling what could go down the second Charlie wasn’t paying full attention to everyone. At once. All the time.

Charlie let out an annoyed sound akin to a growl of a bear who was just started his emo phase and had to listen to his parents judging him, and slammed her forehead against the desk covered in mostly complaints and forms filled out in grammar so horrifying she thought her eyes just might start bleeding if she read any more of them. And just then, she heard the quiet “whoosh” a sentient shadow sometimes makes when moving of its own accord. Great, what she really needed right now was Alastor being annoying.

“Well, darling, you’ve certainly seen better days,” he joked upon seeing her look up at him with bags under her eyes and a hateful scowl. “And, oh! Where’s your lovely smile! You wear it almost as much as I do!”

She glanced up. “Al… not now? Please? I’m just really… really tired. I haven’t gotten much sleep since… like two weeks ago, I think? And I’m just really not in the mood for…” She tried to compress all of his presence into angry gestures of both hands, “this. Just… could you maybe leave?”

He looked at her with certain bemusement for just a moment, but even in her tired and done-with-everyone’s-shit state she saw his shoulders droop and heard the disappointment in his voice when he shrugged and said: “Fine then, sweetheart. I came here to offer help with the paperwork, but if you insist, I’ll leave.”

He turned to walk out, even though he didn’t need to use the door. And she knew that. And he knew she knew that. He was just being dramatic, he was always dramatic, Charlie liked it on most occasions, his songs and jokes and taunts, it would be fun and endearing any other time, but not now. Right now, she wanted desperately to just be done with work and hit the hay. Which is why she sighed and raised her hand. “Wait!”

“Oh nono, you don’t want me here and I can take a hint, I’ll go.”

“Alastor, I swear to my dad, please help me get rid of all this. I’m sorry I was rude, but I’m just so… ugh, y’know?”

He turned back, his cheer restored and back in his grin, and waved a hand. Charlie yelped when an invisible force lifted her from her chair behind the desk and set her down on the green velvet sofa she kept in her office. “If you’re feeling so ‘ugh,’ why don’t you take five, starshine? You’ve been up and about for so long, that’s ought to exhaust even the demon royalty at times.”

She watched in bewilderment as multiple shadows resembling Alastor in shape and size rose around the desk and disassembled the mess on it, soon falling into a rhythm as Alastor himself took a seat behind the desk.

Humming a tune – Charlie thought it sounded like “Hit the road, Jack” – he scraped together a few sign-up forms and other papers at random and without further stalling started reading each one.

She saw all of this unravel and when the office silenced down, the princess exhaled a relieved sigh. She could take a nap, just for an hour and a half, that would be enough, and then she’d get back to work, she’s pulled a few all-nighters before after all. But first she had to ask because something was nagging at her brain. “Um, Alastor?”

He hummed from where he was sitting to show he heard her, but didn’t look up.

“Why are you helping me right now?”

“...what kind of a question is that?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t seem too fun is all.”

Now he raised his eyes to meet hers. “I promised my assistance. How will I ever be entertained if you start having panic attacks and stress-induced fainting spells? That just won’t do. So get some rest, starshine.”

The princess nodded. It made sense, it was a logical answer. Even so, she couldn’t help herself and mused out loud: “You know, when we first met I would’ve kicked you out without second thought, to be honest.”

“Good to hear, you can’t trust anyone around here.”

“See, that’s the thing!” Charlie laid down on the sofa on her belly, propping herself up on her elbows, starry-eyed and grinning despite her drowsiness. “Nowadays, I don’t really mind, because you’ve saved our lives numerous times, you don’t sabotage us, hell, you were the one who helped this place pick itself up from the ground. And I’m sure it doesn’t really mean much to you, Al, since you’re the one and only Radio Demon, but if you ever… if you ever need help, I’ll be there and do whatever I can, okay?”

She recognized his surprise right away now that she knew what it looked like, it always made her kind of happy that she could surprise someone seemingly unphased by most of what Hell could offer.

“Now why would you go and say something like that?” Alastor asked, and the question caught her off guard, as did the tone of his voice. It seemed… void of the usual playful curiosity his taunts and sarcastic queries possessed.

Charlie’s smile dropped. She didn’t recognize  _ this one  _ yet. Maybe it was confusion. Probably confusion, yeah. Hey, why wasn’t that on her list anyways? No matter, she realized he asked her a question. “Well, it seems fair. You’ve really earned our trust, my trust, in the last few months. So,” she turned onto her back, plopping down onto the cushions completely, “just know that if you ever need help or want to beat someone up or something, as long as it’s not mass genocide, I’ll help, trust me.” She crossed her arms behind her head and closed her eyes, a comfortable smile settling over her features. “And that’s my deal, Al.”

She fell asleep shortly after, the exhaustion finally taking over her, but she could’ve sworn she heard him utter a silent “thank you, I suppose.”

Alastor did more than clean up the mess on her work desk. Concluding that while he was here he could as well fix up the only room he stayed away from while redesigning the hotel from “Happy” to “Hazbin,” he toned down the red colour of the wallpaper so it wouldn’t be as intense, that way it would be easier on the eyes and would allow Charlie to work better, he fixed a wobbling chair in the waiting room leading to the office, and summoned up a few differently colored binders so she could categorize her paperwork better. Each was clearly marked, and just because the thought occurred to him right then, he added two sheets of sparkling stickers she could use as decorations.

When the woman woke up, she discovered Alastor still in her office, sitting at her desk, reading a book she recognized as one of hers, he must’ve borrowed it from the library next to the sofa. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and trying to blink away the sleepiness. “Mmmkay, Al, thanks for the help, I had an amazing nap and can do the rest.”

He chuckled. “A nap? Sweetheart, you slept for seven hours straight. Seems like it did you some good, too!”

“What?! But– my work–”

“All done.”

“Oh, and the office–”

“Nothing moved an inch from its original place, I promise. It just looks better now.”

“…okay, then I should wake everyone up–”

“Nifty is on it already.”

She opened her mouth to say something more, but realized she didn’t have anything urgent going on. He handled anything that needed immediate attention. So, she closed her mouth shut again and stared at him for a while. He was looking back with undeniable smugness in his smile, like he’d just won a lottery and was about to rub it in her face. Well it’s easy to be smug if you have unlimited magical powers, she supposed.

Something occurred to her then: “Why are you still here though?”

He responded with a shrug: “I finished up about fifty minutes ago. Since I spotted some interesting literature on the shelf, I figured I might as well stay here and keep watch in case anybody needed you for anything.”

“Aw. That’s really sweet, Al.”

Like someone turned a switch on his back, he closed the book with a resounding “bomf!” and straightened up, “well, I’ve helped here as much as I could and you’re awake now, so I’ll be on my way!”

Guilt jabbed at her guts even though she wasn’t exactly sure what she did, so Charlie tried to say something along the lines of “hey, wait, sorry–” but before she could speak, she noticed Alastor stumble as he stood up. He dusted off his jacket like it hadn’t even happened, but Charlie knew what she saw. “What was that?” she asked, standing up herself.

“What was what?” he asked just a tad too innocently for it to be earnest.

“You stumbled, just now.”

“Stumbled? Ahaha, Charlie, my dear, I’m Alastor. I do not ‘stumble,’” he made quotes with his hands and right afterwards lurched forward, Charlie immediately reacted by stepping closer but before she could help somehow, the demon summoned his microphone and leaned on it, using it as a walking cane as he often did. The princess, however, was certain that usually he wasn’t in need of its primary purpose and just carried it for the aesthetic. This time, the circumstances were different.

“See? You did it again!” she stated. A shocking suspicion came to her and she sized him up before asking: “Are you… drunk, Al?”

This got an amused laugh out of him, although she thought it forced and fake. “No, Charlie, please! I don’t drink on work hours… That would be highly unprofessional. It’s just a part of my punishment!” he said with an oddly chipper tone which didn’t fit what he was saying in the slightest. “If I use my powers for long enough, it starts draining my energy. And, while I could still fight off a seven nation army and burn down a city or two, it’s a less than optimal state to be in, because– ah, well, it’s plain to see why,” he added dryly, annoyed with the loss of balance, his gaze dropping to his cane.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

The question gave him pause, like he wasn’t expecting it. “Why, yes, dear, don’t fret. It’s just a matter of a good night’s rest,” he assured her.

“You could rest here!” the blonde demon offered before she could think about it too much. When he gave her an “are you kidding me” look, she joked: “As someone who just slept here, I can recommend it!”

“Charlie, how to say this… Thank you, but no, thank you,” Alastor said, but she wasn’t giving up that easily.

Approaching him completely – but not touching him, he hated that, she knew, especially without permission – she tried again, her voice softer and, if it was even possible, more full of care and worry than before: “Come on, Al, I was up for a few days and I’d always seen you around, so how long have  _ you _ gone with no sleep? I know you’ve got crazy mysterious powers, but you’re bound to exhaust yourself at some point, and that’s dangerous. Probably would be worse for anyone else, but still, I want to know you’ll be okay.”

She took notice of his eyebrows furrowing and his head tilting just an inch down as he thought her words over, considered them, this was it, this was her chance to show that he could trust her. “And, I mean, it must be super tiring to smile all the time, you need to rest your face from time to time too, don’t you?”

And like that, the consideration was gone. “Please, could you recall for me what I always say about smiling?”

Holding her own hands behind her back, Charlie forced the feeling of being interrogated deep down before answering. “I know what you say, not fully dressed without a smile, you keep reminding us–”

“Then you should understand that I can’t just stop whenever I want to!” he said matter-of-factly.

She bit the inside of her cheek in thought. “Okay, but… it wouldn’t be like… being fully naked, right? Just… just like taking a jacket off. It’s not that big of a deal in my opinion,” she said with hesitance.

“Not that big of a deal?!” he gasped, sounding almost outraged by her implications, “Charlie, dear, you shock me! How, pray tell, do you think people recognize me?”

“Maybe because you’re tall and have antlers and wear more red than is usual even for standards of Hell?”

“Because of my smile! It’s my trademark feature, so who would I be–”

“…who would you be without it.”

His voice cut off with a screech. His eyes darted to her, then away, and back to her, seemingly unable to maintain eye contact but trying hard to do so, calculating, and in her opinion searching for the fastest way to escape the situation. But he was still leaning on his mic. He still hadn’t recovered his balance. She had a few more seconds, she hoped.

Charlie was looking him up and down with genuine care plastered all over her face, “is that what you were going to say?” Is this whole smile mambo jambo just a question of pride? That would explain a lot, since it means the more ticked off he’d be the more he’d keep on smiling. And it also makes sense that when they threw him the coming-to-Hell day party, his smile lessened, because he was calmer than usual!

An odd buzz accompanied by a single unbroken high-pitched tone interrupted her train of thought and she glanced up at the radio demon, who cringed upon hearing the sound he’d supposedly caused.

“Is that a symptom of exhaustion?” the princess inquired, increasingly more fretful.

“Like I said, you don’t need to worry about–”

Charlie huffed, she was getting more upset by the minute because they shouldn’t be arguing, but he just had to make it difficult for her! “Alastor, you’re my friend,” she told him, her voice steady and her eyes boring into him like two rays of angry sunshine. “As such, it’s my place to decide when I need and don’t need to worry about you. And right now, I worry that you should be resting and not making your condition worse by quarreling with me.”

“Then let’s not quarrel!” he argued, “just let me go!”

“It kinda feels like you’re not listening to me, Al,” she crossed her forearms over her chest and frowned at him in a ticked off manner.

She must’ve looked like a scolding mother just then.

Finally, Alastor sighed in partial resignation. Pinching the space between his eyes, he said: “Fine, starshine, listen: I don’t let my guard – and my smile – down around anyone. You must understand that! This is Hell, after all, and as a demon with powerful magic and six-digit death count, I can’t exactly take naps at work.”

“But you also feel indignant without the smile, right?”

He didn’t answer her, but Charlie knew she was correct. It wasn’t really worth a celebration though, because her objective right now was that Alastor got some much needed rest and trusted her to not assassinate him. So, she tapped a finger on her chin, thinking of a solution. 

“Hey, how about this: if it’s really that big of a problem, why don’t you lean on me?” She was pretty sure she’d never seen him as disgusted before, but she also wasn’t finished yet. “Hear me out! If you do that, I’ll literally have your back while not being able to see… whatever happens when you’re not smiling, I guess. If I wanted to try and see, you’d feel me move. And since everything’s being taken care of, I can just do this,” she locked the door, “and this,” she closed the blinds on two windows her office had (she noticed he changed the fabric they were made of, it was heavier and softer now) and afterwards sat down on one side of the sofa, her eyes ever so innocently friendly and kind. “It’s absolutely safe,” the princess promised, “and you can trust me, Alastor. Like I said yesterday, that’s my deal.”

He stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time ever. She wondered briefly if she was too bold to offer him this, but was it too bold to offer someone comfort, to offer someone companionship, to offer someone help? He did the same for her just a few hours ago, after all. They were all doing this for each other for a while now, especially Charlie and Angel, but she knew for a fact that everyone in the original Hazbin Hotel team had offered a hug to someone at least twice in the time she knew them. She’d hugged Alastor before, too, although he usually only let Nifty do so. And it went beyond hugs, they just… they got used to looking out for each other at some point. And although Alastor was their main source of protection, he, too, deserved to be looked out for, in Charlie’s opinion.

All of a sudden, the sofa’s cushion moved with added weight. She smiled at him reassuringly as he sat next to her and moved to sit cross-legged on the sofa, facing him completely. With a small hum and a twirl of a finger she motioned for him to turn away from her, which he did with a doubtful look in his red eyes.

“Right, now comes the hard part,” she nodded to herself, and then started explaining her plan to Alastor: “I’m going to move closer to you so you can just lean against me and we can settle on the sofa, okay?”

He didn’t respond, but she wanted confirmation. No point in forcing him into stupid stuff he didn’t want to try, right? “Al?”

His shoulders jumped. “Yes, yes, I’m fine!”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” she muttered before scooting closer. “Listen, you know I’m a hugger and generally down to cuddle anytime anywhere, but I in turn know you’re not. So just– bear with me only as long as it’s not anything you hate, Al.” Mentally preparing herself, she gently prompted: “Okay, you can lay on me now.”

Either he was being careful or time just slowed down for her, and the distance between herself and him seemed almost unsurpassable. In the end, his red and brown hair brushed against her chin and upper chest, tangling around the bow tie she never bothered to take off, and his antlers somehow didn’t poke her eyes out, even thought she could’ve sworn they were at a different angle just a second ago. Then, like two pieces of dominoes falling parallel with each other, they leaned down, Charlie laying her head onto the armrest and Alastor resting his head on her sternum. She forced herself to not giggle out of sheer embarrassment, “I’m going to pretty much breath into your hair, sorry if that gets annoying.”

“It’s… not,” he told her with hesitance clear in his voice. It was honestly clear not just thanks to his voice, he was incredibly tense all around from what she could tell. Charlie understood why, this was kind of weird and also out of both their comfort zones, but more so out of his, so she took it upon herself to help him calm down before he panicked and decided to murder her so she could never tell anyone about this.

“Fine, but if anything I do makes you uncomfortable, please tell me, okay? It’s already pretty brave of you to even try this, and I’d hate to worsen it in any way.”

He chuckled quietly. “I know you‘d hate that.”

It made her smile to hear that he was calmer already. She almost forgot that she also had to place her two arms somewhere, but he didn’t like physical touch and this was already a lot for him to take in for sure, she couldn’t force him to suffer through more of it than necessary… she could probably fold her arms under her head again, but with additional weight on her, it wasn’t really as comfy as before, hence why she caved and decided to take a stab at this. “Sorry, I’m– I’m trying to figure out what to do with my hands, is it okay if I put them on your shoulders?”

He thought about it, then shook his head. The longer strands of hair that were always sticking up from the top of his head tickled her chin. “No.”

“Oh, okay, that’s okay,” she assured him – and herself too, just a little. He’s been patient with her experiments and plans for months, he can handle it now. “You wouldn’t want to hold them, would you, huh?” she joked while trying to figure something else out, but her breath hitched when he replied.

“Actually, I don’t see why not.”

“Wait, really? I was just joking.”

“No, it’s a good idea,” he told her, “you can’t strangle me that way.”

“Pff, I’m not going to strangle you, Al.”

“Well, you can never be absolutely sure,” he reached up, offering his clawed hands to her. She took them, and their fingers locked in a gentle grasp. Charlie knew from the heat rising to her cheeks that she must’ve been blushing, and no wonder – this was, as she suddenly realized, with high certainty the most intimate Alastor the Radio Demon had ever gotten. It made her proud of herself, and of him. She made a mental note to tell him that later. Now, however, more important business was at hand.

“Okay, well, as Charlie Magne, the Princess of Hell, I do solemnly swear that I can’t see your face right now,” she promised, using the official word of a royal, because no lies can ever be told through such promise. It was the only magical ability of her family she used on a frequent basis, and she liked it, because it meant she made herself trustworthy when needed, even though her parents used to scold her for using it for things too basic and silly. “All that’s left now is to chill and recharge,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It didn’t make the whole situation feel any more normal, but she felt less out of place nevertheless.

Despite seeing nothing but darkness and breathing calmly, a million thoughts was racing through her head now. The most prominent were “what the fuck is happening” and “how did I get here,” but once she willed herself to bypass those questions (for now at least), she had to wonder if this was a good idea after all. Alastor did agree to the idea, and didn’t get up just yet, so that was a good sign, she supposed, but what if he was just going along with this because he felt obligated to? No, he wouldn’t. Alastor ultimately did whatever the hell he pleased and it just coincidentally sometimes happened to be what Charlie wanted to do as well, and if he hated this, he would get up and leave, or at least tell her that he wanted to stop, but he didn’t. He was still there, she knew by the weight on her chest and stomach and legs crossed one over the other, it wasn’t quite suffocating, but he did weigh more than she would’ve guessed. She could probably still lift him up if she needed to. Or wanted to. Charlie imagined it, a music number during which she’d casually pick the infamous demon up like he weighed nothing. She’d feel so happy, but he would probably not like that. Then again, he liked to tease them from time to time, surely he’d survive some well-meant teasing from her. Oh well, the princess would know by his expression, since she could read them like his own language by now.

Which reminded her of the list she’d made some time ago.  _ I suppose I can check off the last two bulletpoints, _ she thought as she went over the short list.

  * surprise ✅ – _he tilts his head, like a dog (or a deer, I suppose) would. Noises akin to a buzz of an old audio carrying device (either radio or an old tv) can be heard, and his eyes widen with curiosity (he’s always, always curious, never scared! Does anything scare him at all???)_
  * sadness (?) ✅ – _manifests by drooping shoulders and less glow in his eyes, the smile looks plastic, like a bad mask. The expression, however, is always very fleeting. If only watching the smile, one might not register the reaction at all._
  * disgust ✅ – _his brows furrow and his eyes are narrowed, like he’s squinting. His smile looks ultra fake, like he’s about to politely tell a Karen to fuck off. It stays on his face though._
  * anger ✅ – _his powers show even if not intentionally, as if spilling over. This is probably like a normal person snapping in anger. Accompanied by a wicked grin, shows off as many teeth as possible (probably more than he really needs to have in his mouth. Just… too many teeth.), and the grin doesn’t turn into a scowl at any time._
  * happiness ✅ – _colour around him distorts in a harmless and barely noticeable fashion, and his smile looks more soft than usual, it’s smaller, probably the smallest smile we’re ever going to see on him, and kinda more relaxed? Maybe?_
  * fear (?) ✅ – _his whole body goes stiff, he gets defensive and his laughter either lacks the laugh track or plays it for way too long. His eyes can’t stay trained on one spot. Smile, however, always stays._



She made a mental note to throw the list out. It seemed none of them will ever get to see Alastor without a smile after all. This didn’t mean her experiment was a failure, she decided. She just made a different discovery than first expected, and don’t the greatest things always get discovered that way? And, dare she say, the radio demon having a soft side was a great discovery indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Alastor wakes up and we get to see the whole situation from his perspective, and then I have a few soft drabbles about what effect this experience had on them :)


	6. Epilogue drabbles full of cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor waking up and three small scenes I thought of while writing this. Idk about you but I’m a sucker for soft Alastor in denial of having positive feelings towards anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite everything, this is still written in a way that isn’t necessarily romantic. I want them to hug and cuddle and hold hands, but that doesn’t have to mean they’re in love.  
> Also, fun fact, I googled “pentagram emoji” for this fic. Here it is: 𖤐

Upon waking up, Alastor immediately decided that he had never even since appearing in Hell experienced being as well-rested as he felt now. Everything that usually hurt him now hurt a tad less, and besides, waking up and not feeling oddly cold (the pocket dimension he made to reside in had freezing temperatures) was a rather satisfying change. As for the source of the pleasant warmth…

He willed himself into a more awakened state to assess the situation. He must’ve let go of Charlie’s hands when he fell asleep, but what bothered him was where– ah. Alastor couldn’t help but snicker when he realized he was enclosed in a loose hug. Her arms wrapped around his chest, but, wait, with the way they were originally settled on the sofa, she could’ve never reached her arms around him like this..?

An answer to his confusion came in the form of a soft snore resounding next to his ear. As it turned out, Charlie must’ve slipped lower on the sofa, because she currently had her face buried in his hair. How she could ignore the his weight on her, Alastor wasn’t sure. He knew some people liked to sleep with weighted blankets, but was this the same, really?

He briefly pondered if perhaps Charlie mistook him for either a plush toy – she seemed like the type to have plushies even though she was a few hundred years old at least – or for someone else. And he realized he didn’t like that one bit. She promised him companionship, didn’t she?

Unconsciously, his hands found hers and his arms wrapped around his torso like hers did. It almost felt like a dance pose, if they were dancing on a wall of a building. Which, now that he thought about it, would be a simply magical stage for a music number.

Charlie stirred then, nuzzling into the shorter hair on the back of his neck and he already knew that  _ oh, that’ll be a mess to comb… _ But other than that, he found to his surprise that this felt… sort of nice. He wouldn’t seek this out on his own, but the princess of Hell sure made it feel cozy. How foolish of him not to trust her judgement, she was doing well with the hotel after all. He just wasn’t expecting her to actually offer him of all people a resting sleep in her embrace.

New wave of doubt washed over him, what if she tells the others? This could start rumors and rumors lead to trouble, the boring kind, and those were just a waste of his time. Also, he knew Angel Dust would never let him live this down. In fact, Husk probably wouldn’t either, and most importantly, this could be the last drop that finally drives Vaggie to try and murder Alastor.

The rhythm of Charlie’s breathing changed, he noticed. Soon after, she softly hummed as her eyes fluttered open and she awakened. Like him, she too took time to process the chain of events that lead to this and the current state of things. Then, not knowing that Alastor was awake already, she gently attempted to loosen the hug she was apparently holding him in only to find his hands stopping her from doing so.

“A few more minutes won’t kill us, will they?” he said, startling her just a tiny bit. “You managed to sleep all through the night and then again for a better half of the day, just how drained were you?”

Charlie’s eyes searched around the room like she was evading his stare even though he wasn’t even looking at her. “It’s just… a lot to do, especially now when we have more patients who are actually willing to try. I want to be there for everyone.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart, but you have to look after yourself, too. Why, my dear beloved mother was troubled by the same thing – she just kept lending her hand to anyone, but soon she’d run out of hands to lend and I don’t know how much experience you have with dismemberment but it can be a tad problematic!”

“That’s uh…” She gulped, “that was a metaphor, right? ...right??”

He shrugged. His shoulder almost poked her in the eye. “My point is, you need to take care of yourself first before you can care for others, Charlie.”

If he’d said this any other time, anywhere else, she wouldn’t have taken him seriously. But right now she was cuddling him and that tends to change how a mind thinks. So she just nodded, messing his hair up a little more.

“I’ll try.”

𖤐𖤐𖤐

Angel Dust was sitting in the lobby, chatting with Husk, when Vaggie stepped in, concern all over her features. “Hey, has anyone seen Charlie? I haven’t seen her since last night and I’m kinda afraid she was too tired and fell asleep on the street…”

Angel Dust shrugged and shook his head, but Husk said: “She never left last night. Or, if she did, it must’ve been pretty late, because I was here until two in the morning, at least.”

“Ugh, she must’ve slept in her office again, she’s probably still sleeping then.” Vaggie sat next to Angel, worry still in her eyes but less intense now than before.

“Speaking of which,” the spider demon spoke up, “Alastor’s also been missing the whole day. Usually he goes around jumpscaring people, but there’s been radio silence today.”

Husk rolled his eyes. “The radio silence joke is only funny once or twice, idiot.”

Angel grinned, “yet you still smile when I say it, hun.”

Vaggie ignored their bickering. “I hope this doesn’t mean he did something to her.”

“What, you think he’d kidnap her or somethin’?”

“I don’t know! What if he did?”

Just then, the princess of Hell popped out from around the corner, chipper as always, if not a little more: “Hey guys!”

“Charlie! Where have you been?” Vaggie asked immediately.

Charlie shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I had to work late and it took a little more time than I expected. But uh… I… I slept on the sofa I have in my office and I’m fine now,” she smiled and went to join them where they sat.

“And have you happened to see mister Smiles while pulling an all-nighter?” Angel said.

“Yeah, actually, he–” She paused. Alastor trusted her, and she couldn’t just go and tear down his reputation. So, she lied. “He helped me with some of the work, but then said he had to leave for today, said he had to deal with something, I honestly didn’t want to know, so um… ask him when you see him if you really want to know.”  _ That way he can come up with his own excuse, _ she thought to herself.  _ Right after he’s done sleeping in my office. _

𖤐𖤐𖤐

“Charlie, if I may…”

“Yeah?”

“The other day you made me curious. Do you like being weighed down when asleep?”

“Oh, uh, hahah… something like that. The weight pressing onto me is kinda grounding, and makes me sleep better,” she explained, and then added, a little quieter: “It’s also why I like hugs and physical contact in general. It’s like, um… reassurance? Yeah, it reassures me that I’m here, this is real, and that I’m in control.”

“Hm. Peculiar. Thank you, dear.”

“No problem, I guess,” she laughed a little. “I think everyone has something like that – something that helps them focus on the situation at hand. Don’t you?”

He hummed in thought. “Maybe? I rarely feel distraught so I suppose I never gave this much thought.”

“Well, doesn’t matter. If you figure it out, you’re not obligated to tell me anyways,” she shrugged and went on with her business, humming to herself a cheery tune.

He followed suit, smiling as always but deep in thought nevertheless.

𖤐𖤐𖤐

A reporter from the 666 News was interviewing (or, more precisely, interrogating) Charlie for a while now, and since she was caught off guard, the questions he kept asking were quickly causing her replies to be jumbled and confused.

She felt her breathing quicken. She knew they were trying to make her look stupid, to make her look incapable of running this hotel, and she knew if they pushed her too much she’d retreat into her demon form and as a demon she tended to accidentally set things on fire, and that would make things worse, and she already had a lot on her shoulders and this would result in more negative publicity for the hotel, for her dream, and–

“Apologies, am I late to an interview?” a chipper voice both her and the reporter knew well interrupted Charlie’s train of thoughts and she was honestly glad because that train was hurdling downwards.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she turned her head to see Alastor standing by her side. Usually, as a sponsor of her project, he’d accompany her to interviews, and now that she thought about it, that probably helped her stay on track. “No, no,” she smiled forcibly in an attempt to calm herself down, “we just happened to meet, it wasn’t a planned interview.”

The radio demon turned to the reporter who was clearly less aggressive now that Alastor was here, his red eyes scanning the man, and then he spoke: “Well, seeing as it wasn’t planned beforehand and you have your work to get to, I suggest we cut this short. Let’s go, Charlie.” He ushered her inside the hotel and slammed the door in the reporter’s face. As he contemplated if it was worth his time to mess with the reporter some more just for the fun of it, he heard Charlie let out a noise akin to a weary, strangled groan and when he turned to look at her, she was covering her face with her hands.

“I can’t fucking stand them,” she whispered into her palms angrily. “Killjoy keeps messing with me through her field reporters and if it goes on for a little longer I might just murder one of them. Or her.”

Her words made him chuckle. “As intriguing as the thought of you going rampant and having a killing spree on live TV is, it wouldn’t bode well for the name of the establishment. But, if you wish, I know a kill-for-hire company that could really use a helping hand and this could be a great opportunity for them,” he offered, but she scoffed and shook her head.

“I’m not really gonna kill anyone. I can’t do that.”

“Oh you can, you’re the princess of He–”

“Fine, I don’t  _ want _ to kill people.”

“You don’t have to, that’s what your staff and I are here for,” he said in a joking manner, and she hoped he really was just joking.

Still, she couldn’t find it in herself to cheer up. 

“Hey, starshine,” he snapped his fingers to get her to pay attention to him. She had tears in her eyes. He pretended not to notice. “Take my hand.”

“What?”

“You heard me. It seems like you need to be anchored down right now, so. Take my hand.”

With slight hesitance, she did, and Alastor squeezed her hand tightly and kept his grip as he spoke again: “Now do me a favour and tell me your full name.”

She gave him a puzzled look, but relented: “Charlie Magne?”

“What’s my name?”

“Alastor?”

“Who’s your closest loved one and manager?”

“Vaggie.”

“Name five things you’re seeing right now.”

Still confused, her eyes searched around the main hall. “Pillars… a violet sofa, a painting of my family… a photo of me and Vaggie and Angel… and you, right here,” she said, and to her own surprise, she felt the stress slowly wash away.

“Good. How are you feeling, is it any better?”

Her eyes lit up: “Is that genuine concern I hear in your voice?”

“Charlie.”

“Alastor.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously you’re fine enough to tease me.”

Charlie giggled and wiped her eyes with her free hand. “Okay, I’m sorry. Yes, you did help. Good job, Al, you remembered I like to be grounded and you’re holding hands with me right now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d call that progress towards redemption.”

“But you know better.”

“Yup, I know,” her grin didn’t lessen as he let go of her and she walked away, a rejuvenated feeling about her.

For a second more, Alastor stood there. “Progress towards redemption,” he shook his head. “As if.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s it, hope you enjoyed! If you did, there’s some Charlastor content on my Tumblr @been-there-done-that-hotel, go search for the tag :)  
> This whole thing was inspired by a headcanon I found there (and promptly lost again) saying that maybe Al only loses his smile when he feels he can be vulnerable.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve got almost all the chapters finished so don’t worry about the first few being short. The one that matters is longer and I’m preparing an epilogue too.


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